ASHWORTH 
Mrs.  Bowden 


BX 
8333 

A7M5 


IJCSB    LIBRAR 


WUMBLE  LIFE, 


LMRS.  BOWDEN. 


PUBLISHED  BY  PERMISSION  OF  THB  AUTHOR. 


PUBLISHED  BY 

PHILADELPHIA  CONFERENCE  TRACT  SOCIETY 

AT  METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  BOOK  ROOMS, 
1018  AEOH  STREET,  PHILADA, 


JtOTE  TO  THE  SECOND  SERIES. 


THE  reader  may  rest  assured  these  narrative*  are 
substantially  true,  as  many  persons  now  living  in  the 
neighborhood  can  testify.  The  names  mentioned  are 
real  names,  both  of  persons  and  places.  Some  of  them, 
as  in  the  former  case,  have  arisen  from  my  connection 
with  the  Chapel  for  the  Destitute. 

I  am  surprised  and  thankful  for  the  reception  given 
to  the  first  eleven  Tales,  now  constituting  the  First 
Volume — nearly  half  a  million  of  which  have  been 
sold  in  a  few  months — and  the  urgent  request  of  many 
friends  that  I  would  furnish  them  with  more,  induces 
me  again  to  dip  into  my  diary,  where  many  more  yet 
remain. 

I  am  a  tradesman,  and  make  no  pretensions  to  liter* 
ary  ability.  If  He  whom  I  desire  to  serve  condescends 
to  use  me  as  a  medium  of  good  to  others,  my  earnest 
wiah  will  be  realized.  To  Him  my  prayer  has  been, 
"HOLD  THOU  MY  RIGHT  HAND." 

J.  ASHWOKTH. 

Roclulale,  1866. 


The  three  thousand  wives  and  mothers  assem- 
bled in  Edinburgh,  Newcastle,  Leicester,  and 
Blackburn,  to  hear  addresses  from  one  who  had 
often  met  similar  gatherings  hi  other  towns, 
presented  scenes  and  suggested  thoughts  widely 
in  contrast.  There  was  no  difficulty  in  detect- 
ing the  persons  by  whose  moving  power  the 
vast  multitude  were  influenced,  and  brought 
together,  they  quietly  took  their  places  amongst 
the  mothers  under  their  special  care,  without 
parade  or  ostentation,  standing  out  from  others 
by  that  indefinable  something,  which  education 
;md  religion  ever  gives.  The  wives  and  mothers, 
though  crowded  together,  had  also  their  indi- 
viduality, the  truly  beautiful,  the  merry  and 
happy,  the  sedate  and  thoughtful,  the  fair  and 
fat,  mingled  with  the  lean  and  care-worn,  the 
pale  and  sickly,  the  careless  and  easy,  nor  would 
it  have  been  very  difficult  to  tell  from  the  ap- 
pearance and  countenance,  which  of  them  had 
good  children,  good  husbands,  and  lived  in  sweet 
homes. 

But  no  gathering  of  females  that  I  have  wit- 
nessed has  exceeded  in  interest  the  one  we 
had  in  Milton  Church,  in  our  own  town,  on 
the  evening  of  the  sixth  of  January  last.  At 
the  expense  of  one  who  honors  the  Lord  with 

0  183  1 


2  MRS.  BOWDEN. 

part  of  what  the  Lord  has  trusted  him,  five 
hundred  and  fifty  widows  met  together,  sat  down 
to  their  favorite  repast,  and  for  a  few  hours 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  company  of  each  other. 
Though  the  object  in  bringing  them  together 
was  to  make  them  as  cheerful  and  happy  as 
possible,  to  get  better  acquainted  with  their 
social,  temporal,  and  moral  condition,  and  to 
speak  to  them  words  of  peace  and  comfort,  still 
the  thought  could  not  be  withheld,  that  all  of 
them  had  worn  weeds  of  woe,  the  sable  emblems 
of  the  departed,  that  the  hand  that  had  brought 
them  bread,  the  arm  that  had  been  their  shield, 
and  the  hearts  that  had  held  them  dear  were  all 
laid  in  the  dust.  Every  one  of  these  five  hun- 
dred and  fifty  widows  had  her  history,  and  one 
part  of  that  history  was  linked  with  the  tomb. 
It  was  no  easy  undertaking  to  speak  to  this 
chastened  assembly,  human  language  would  fail 
to  sound  the  depths  of  their  emotion.  The 
words  of  Him  who  multiplied  the  widow's  oil, 
raised  the  widow's  son,  saw  the  widow's  mite, 
and  says  let  the  widows  trust  in  me,  seemed  the 
most  suitable  to  the  requirements  of  the  moment, 
and  received  the  best  response  of  many  hearts. 
Numbers  in  that  memorable  meeting  I  knew, 
many  of  them  attend  our  Chapel  for  the  Desti- 
tute. One  of  them  recently  left  us,  who  for 
several  years  sat  with  five  other  aged  females 

134 


MRS.  BOWDEN.  3 

on  the  same  form,  richly  enjoying  the  means  of 
grace,  and  now,  with  her  husband  who  died 
eight  years  ago,  she  counts  amongst  the  dead, 
and  I  have  thought  a  few  words  on  the  later 
years  of  her  life,  may  be  of  use  to  the  living. 

The  very  word,  widow,  calls  forth  more  or 
less  sympathy,  and  where  it  is  associated  with 
a  group  of  helpless  children,  we  know  that  in 
most  cases  it  means  a  protracted  struggle,  and 
many  trials.  The  oldest  child  of  five,  and  her- 
self only  seven  years  of  age,  once  said  to  her 
mother, — "  Mother,  since  my  father  died,  I  have 
often  seen  you  go  up  stairs  with  a  sad  and  sor- 
rowful face,  which  makes  me  feel  poorly ;  but 
when  you  come  down  again,  your  face  shines : 
what  do  you  do  at  your  face,  mother  ?" 

Poor  little  thing,  she  did  not  then  understand 
that  her  mother  went  up  stairs  to  spread  her 
trouble  before  Him  who  knows  all  sorrow,  can 
help  in  time  of  need,  and  make  His  children 
happy  in  every  affliction. 

Mrs.  Bowden,  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  had 
no  little  children,  they  were  grown  up  when 
she  lost  her  husband,  nor  did  she  resemble  the 
praying  mother  in  her  religious  views  and  feel- 
ings. She  sometimes  went  to  church,  but  more 
frequently  spent  her  Sabbath  in  dusting,  rub- 
bing, cooking,  eating,  and  sleeping,  probably 
caring  more  for  her  polished  drawers,  and  bright 

156 


4  MRS.    BOWDEN. 

fender,  than  for  the  house  of  God,  or  the  salva- 
tion of  her  own  soul,  consequently  her  Sabbaths 
instead  of  being  hours  of  peace,  holiness,  and 
joy,  were  mostly  days  of  languor,  yawning,  and 
weariness;  and  we  fear  she  was  a  true  type  of 
thousands.  After  her  husband's  death,  she  be- 
gan to  be  more  thoughtful ;  she  saw  how  solemn 
a  thing  it  was  to  die,  and  knew  that  if  she  had 
been  called  away,  she  was  not  prepared.  She 
attended  more  regularly  some  place  of  worship, 
her  true  condition  became  more  and  more  re- 
vealed, the  light  entered  her  dark  mind,  and  in 
mercy  she  became  convinced  she  was  a  sinner. 
And  now  commenced  a  struggle  more  im- 
portant, and  momentous  in  its  results,  than  any- 
thing that  can  possibly  engage  the  human  soul. 
She  knew  that  she  had  wasted  years  of  priceless 
value,  sinned  against  God,  grieved  His  Holy 
Spirit,  and  that  His  frown  rested  upon  her. 
What  was  she  to  do  ?  Many  in  this  state  of 
mind  to  quench  the  striving  of  the  Spirit  have 
fled  to  theatres,  balls,  billiards,  concerts,  operas, 
novels,  pleasuring  places,  social  parties,  and 
drink.  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,  is  the 
prayer  they  seem  determined  never  to  offer  up. 
God  calls,  but  they  refuse.  He  stretches  forth 
His  hand  of  mercy,  but  they  regard  it  not ;  and 
what  might  have  culminated  in  pardon  and 
peace,  sinks  them  deeper  and  deeper  into  guilt 

136 


MRS.    BOWDEN.  5 

and  misery,  and  they  swell  the  number  of  the 
great  cloud  of  witnesses  who  prove  tlfat  there 
is  no  peace  to  the  wicked.  What  a  mercy  this 
was  not  Mrs.  Bowden's  case.  She,  like  Bunyan's 
pilgrim,  felt  her  burden  grow  heavier  and 
heavier.  She  went  from  chapel  to  church,  and 
from  church  to  chapel,  and  at  last  to  the  chapel 
for  the  poor,  and  there,  bathed  in  tears  of  peni- 
tence, contrition,  and  sorrow,  the  still  small 
voice  whispered,  "  thy  faith  hath  saved  thee, 
go  in  peace !"  and  then  she  felt  what  millions 
have  before  her  felt,  how  precious  Christ  is  to 
them  that  believe.  Her  new-born  joy  filled  her 
soul  with  unspeakable  felicity,  filling  her  mouth 
with  praise  and  thanksgiving.  She  spoke  about 
it  to  her  neighbors,  told  all  her  fellow- worship- 
pers at  the  Chapel.  Like  the  poor  man  out  of 
whom  Christ  cast  the  demons,  she  told  what 
great  things  the  Lord  had  done  for  her.  The 
dark,  dark  cloud  of  guilt  that  shrouded  in  its 
folds  the  heart  of  woe,  was  lifted  up,  and  the 
smiling  beams  of  Heaven  came  down  upon  her 
happy  soul. 

It  is  painful  to  hear  persons  professing  to  be- 
lieve the  Bible,  call  in  question  the  doctrine  of 
the  conscious  pardon  of  sin  Those  sweet  por- 
tions of  God's  word  which  to  God's  children  are 
so  precious,  because  expressive  of  their  own  ex- 
perience, are  to  such  words  without  meaning. 

MT 


b  MRS.  BOWDEN. 

There  must  be  a  spiritual  birth  or  no  heaven. 
To  have  it  and  not  know  it  is  to  remain  igno- 
rant of  God's  greatest  gift,— a  gift  which,  when 
felt,  produces  the  greatest  joy :  being  justified 
by  faith  we  have  peace  with  God,  and  that  peace 
must  have  a  beginning,  or  there  can  be  no  peace. 
A  doubter  on  this  great  question,  residing  in 
Yorkshire,  who  held  high  office  in  the  church, 
speaking  to  one  of  his  flock  on  the  subject,  said, 
"  I  do  not  believe  that  anybody  can  tell  when 
their  sins  are  forgiven,  except  at  the  point  of 
death,  and  I  question  if  they  know  then. 

"  I  am  of  the  same  way  of  thinking,"  replied 
the  woman  "  and  I  think  it  is  all  talk  when  I 
hear  people  say  they  can  tell." 

This  woman  had  a  daughter  who  came  to  be 
a  servant  in  Lancashire,  and  fortunately  for  her 
the  new  home  contained  a  family  altar.  One 
morning,  the  master,  while  praying  for  the  sal- 
vation of  the  whole  household,  made  mention 
of  several  by  name,  and  amongst  them  was  the 
name  of  the  new  servant.  A  few  days  after, 
the  servant  sought  a  private  interview  with  the 
mistress,  and  told  her  how  unhappy  she  was. 

"  Are  you  not  satisfied  with  your  place  ?" 
inquired  the  mistress. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  am  well  pleased  with  my  situation, 
but  I  wish  to  tell  you  that  I  have  been  con- 
cerned about  my  soul  ever  since  my  master 


138 


MRS.  BOWDEN.  7 

prayed  for  my  salvation.  The  prayer  sunk 
deep  into  my  heart,  and  I  want  to  know  what 
I  must  do  to  be  saved." 

The  mistress,  placing  her  hand  on  the  shoul- 
der of  the  servant,  answered,- — "  0  Mary,  I  am 
so  glad  you  have  told  me ;  and  now  sit  down, 
and  we  will  read,  and  talk,  and  pray  about  your 
sorrow,  for  I  hope  it  will  soon  be  turned  into 
joy,  for  God  never  turns  a  penitent  away,  nor 
wounds  without  intending  to  heal." 

For  several  hours,  during  the  several  follow- 
ing days,  the  good  lady  explained  the  scriptures, 
especially  the  third  chapter  of  John,  and  pleaded 
with  God  on  her  behalf;  then  came  the  great 
change,  and  Mary  and  her  mistress  rejoiced 
together. 

If  scenes  like  this  were  more  frequent  in  the 
houses  of  the  wealthy,  there  would  not  be  so 
many  registering  offices,  or  so  many  servants' 
boxes  at  our  railway  stations. 

About  three  months  after  Mary's  conversion, 
she  requested  permission  to  go  and  see  her 
mother,  for  she  had  received  a  letter  informing 
her  that  she  was  not  quite  well  Leave  was 
given  her,  and  away  by  the  coach  she  went, 
arriving  after  her  mother  had  retired  to  rest. 
Mary  first  ran  up  stairs  to  kiss  her  mother,  and 
ask  how  she  was,  then  took  off  her  bonnet  and 
shawl,  and  made  herself  a  cup  of  tea.  Before 


8  MRS.  BOWDEN. 

blowing  out  her  candle  for  the  night,  Mary 
asked  her  mother  if  she  might  read  a  psalm. 

"Yes,  child,  if  you  wish,"  was  the  answer. 

Mary  read  the  ninety-first  Psalm,  and  after  a 
pause  sak],  ••*  Mother,  must  I  pray  with  you  ?" 

"Yes:  but  can  you  pray  without  a  book, 
child  ?" 

"  Praying  is  telling  God  what  we  want,  with 
humility  and  truth,  mother." 

Mary  knelt  down,  and  after  thanking  God  for 
her  own  salvation,  prayed  earnestly  for  the  sal- 
vation of  her  mother, — so  earnestly  that  the 
mother  was  much  astonished  and  affected. 
During  the  following  day,  at  the  request  of  her 
mother,  Mary  read  and  prayed  with  her  many 
times ;  she  felt  herself  a  poor  sinner,  arid  sought 
a  Saviour;  and  before  Mary  returned  to  her 
place  of  service,  she  had  the  unspeakable  joy  of 
hearing  her  mother  tell  that  she  had  found 
Jesus.  The  same  day,  the  man  high  in  office 
in  the  church  called  to  see  her;  the  moment  he 
entered,  she  said, — "  I  am  glad  you  have  called, 
please  sit  down,  for  I  must  tell  you  we  have 
both  been  wrong,  we  may  possess  conscious  for- 
giveness of  sin  and  peace  through  believing!  I 
know  we  may,  for  through  the  shed  blood  of 
Christ,  and  the  instrumentality  of  my  dear  child, 
I  now  enjoy  it.  What  a  mercy!  what  a  mercy!" 

The  gentleman  rose  up,  walked  toward  the 

HO 


MRS.  BOWDEtt.  9 

window,  looked  out,  and  began  to  whistle,  then 
turning  to  the  daughter,  he  said, — "  Young 
woman,  I  think  your  mother  is  not  so  well  to- 
day, she  is  evidently  rambling  ;  good  morning  " 

"  Rambling !"  replied  the  mother,  with  a 
smile,  "  rambling !  I  wish  I  had  rambled  thirty 
years  since." 

What  a  mercy,  that  this  great  question  of  a 
knowledge  of  sins  forgiven  is  so  plainly  taught 
in  God's  own  word.  He  there  tells  us,  that  the 
Spirit  itself  beareth  witness  with  our  spirits  that 
we  are  the  children  of  God.  David  said,  I  will 
confess  my  transgressions  unto  the  Lord,  and 
Thou  forgavest  the  iniquity  of  my  sin.  As  far 
as  the  east  is  from  the  west,  so  far  hath  He  re- 
moved our  transgressions  from  us.  Blessed  is 
he  whose  transgression  is  forgiven.  And  Paul 
in  the  Acts  says,  Being  then  made  free  from 
sin,  ye  became  the  servants  of  righteousness. 

Amongst  the  many  happy  people  attending 
the  Chapel  for  the  Destitute,  none  seemed  to 
enjoy  the  means  more  than  Mrs.  Bowden.  She 
called  the  week-night  service  her  little  Sunday, 
a  lift  by  the  way,  the  green  spot  in  the  wilder- 
ness, and  it  was  truly  cheering  to  see  her  and  a 
crowd  of  poor  people,  many  with  shawls  on 
their  hea*ds  instead  of  bonnets,  and  clogs  on 
their  feet  instead  01  shoes,  but  all  clean  and 
orderly,  take  their  accustomed  places  on  the 

141 


10  MRS.  BOWDEN1. 

Thursday  evening,  and  all  join  in  praise  and 
prayer.  The  wide  contrast  betwixt  some  of 
their  homes  and  this  house  of  peace  made  it  to 
many  of  them  a  Bethel  indeed.  These  poor, 
dear  people,  many  of  whom,  like  Mrs.  Bowden, 
had  found  the  pearl  of  great  price,  highly  valued 
these  little  Sundays.  In  all  churches  a  love  for 
the  social  means  of  grace  is  one  sign  of  spiritual 
health  in  either  rich  or  poor ;  and  those  that 
are  the  most  anxious  to  increase  their  spiritual 
strength  will  esteem  these  the  most  highly. 
When  we  try  to  find  arguments  against  class 
meetings,  church  meetings,  prayer  meetings,  &c., 
it  is  an  indication  that  we  are  not  very  fast 
growing  in  grace :  we  need  these  helps  by  the 
way.  The  world  daily  rolls  in  upon  us,  and  we 
need  a  strong  arm  to  roll  it  back,  to  keep  it  in 
its  proper  place.  Means  are  required,  and  the 
week-day  means  are  often  a  powerful  check. 

Mrs.  Bowden  experienced  the  truth  of  our 
Lord's  words,  "in  me  ye  have  peace ;"  but  she 
had  one  great  anxiety :  all  her  family  were  not 
saved.  That  they  all  might  find  the  Saviour 
she  had  found  her  earnest,  constant  prayer. 
The  intensity  of  this  wish  can  only  be  un'der- 
stood  by  those  that  have  experienced  it.  To 
have  a  husband  or  a  wife,  a  brother  or  a  sister, 
walking  down  to  eternal  death,  heedless  of  all 
entreaties  or  persuasions,  is  an  unspeakable 

142 


MBS.   BOWDEN.  11 

trouble.  I  recently  saw  three  sisters  weeping 
over  their  wayward  brother,  not  because  he  had 
disgraced  himself  or  them  by  any  open  sin  or 
breach  of  the  law,  but  because  he  turned  a  deaf 
ear  to  heaven's  warnings,  and  walked  in  the 
way  of  the  ungodly.  They  feared  for  his  never- 
dying  soul.  This  was  Mrs.  Bowden's  case.  All 
her  children  were  not  walking  in  the  way  to 
heaven,  and  this  at  times  gave  her  great  con- 
cern. One  of -her  sons  sat  at  the  fire  ill  of  con- 
sumption, coughing  himself  into  the  grave,  and 
her  anxiety  on  his  account  grew  stronger  every 
day ;  he  had  a  strange  temper,  was  very  irritable 
and  impatient  in  his  affliction,  nothing  seemed 
to  impress  him ;  this  distressed  her  much  She 
tried  all  means  to  do  him  good  in  body  and  soul, 
but  received  few  thanks  and  little  encourage- 
ment. She  was  never  tired  of  talking  about 
him,  and  glad  when  any  one  called  to  see  him ; 
his  sickness  was  long,  and  required  much  atten- 
tion. This  affected  his  mother's  health,  but  she 
frequently  said, — "  T  will  nurse  him,  and  do  all 
I  can  for  him,  to  the  last  moment,  but  I  cannot 
bear  to  think  of  him  being  lost  for  ever,  the 
thought  of  this  very  near  kills  me.  Oh  !  if  his 
soul  was  saved  how  T  should  rejoice  " 

The  last  time  she  attended  the  Chapel  she  was 
suffering  from  a  severe  cold,  and  made  it  much 
worse,  but  the  circumstances  of  that  night  were 

143 


12  MRS.  BOWDEN. 

BO  peculiar,  that  some  allowance  must  be  made 
for  her  indiscretion. 

Many  in  Rochdale  and  neighborhood  will 
long  remember  the  last  Sabbath  of  last  year. 
Mingled  sorrow  and  thankfulness  will  ever  be 
associated  with  an  event  that  transpired  on  that 
day.  The  Wesleyans  of  Union  Street  had  long 
desired  to  extend  their  influence  to  a  growing 
hamlet,  just  outside  the  town,  and  for  this  pur- 
pose built  a  place  for  the  preaching  of  the  gospel 
and  a  Sabbath-school,  near  the  junction  of  Clark's 
Lane  and  Mitchell  Street,  on  the  Spotland  road. 
I  was  requested  to  take  one  of  the  opening  ser- 
vices. The  dedicating  of  new  places  of  worship 
is  an  opportune  time  for  displaying  Christian 
union  amongst  Christian  professors,  and  break- 
ing through  that  narrow  sectarian  bigotry  that 
withers  and  chills  Christian  effort.  Having 
recently  conducted  published  services  for  thir- 
teen differently  named  churches,  I  have  learned 
to  love  them  all,  and  find  that  if  we  were  all 
more  shaken  up  together,  we  should  better  dis- 
play Christian  charity,  and  exhibit  to  the  world 
one  true  test  of  discipleship,  loving  each  other. 
If  Satan  could  laugh,  he  would  laugh  the  loudest 
at  seeing  the  professed  followers  of  the  meek 
and  lowly  Jesus  quarrelling,  or  standing  aloof 
from  each  other  in  supercilious  dignity,  and  in 
their  self-righteousness  despising  others.  If  the 

144 


MRS.  BOWDEN.  13 

words,  "  he  that  exalteth  himself  shall  be 
abased."  were  well  considered,  few  would  dare 
to  say  "  the  temple  of  the  Lord  are  we."  Pro- 
fess what  we  will,  we  never  are  in  the  true 
place  until  we  feel  we  could  wash  each  other's 
feet. 

The  day  on  which  the  new  place  of  worship 
in  Spotland  Road  was  opened  was  fearfully 
stormy;  a  hurricane,  terrible  in  its  consequences 
swept  across  the  country,  levelling  to  the  ground 
many  buildings  in  course  of  erection.  About 
ten  minutes  to  four,  its  fury  was  so  terrible,  and 
its  force  so  irresistible,  that  our  building  gave 
way,  the  entire  gable  fell  upon  the  people,  the 
two  side  walls  followed,  the  roof — for  a  moment 
held  up  by  the  tremendous  force  of  the  storm — 
came  down  in  one  mass,  and  the  screams  and 
groans  of  the  buried  multitude  rose  above  the 
roaring  storm.  One  wall  still  remained.  Near 
this  wall  I  stood  with  closed  eyes  and  bowed 
head,  believing  that  my  last  moment  was  come. 
The  scene  that  immediately  followed  was  truly 
distressing ;  the  maimed,  bruised,  bleeding,  and 
terrified,  forced  their  way  from  under  the  ruins, 
and  in  wild  dismay  ran  through  the  drenching 
rain  and  howling  blast.  Crowds  gathered  round 
to  assist  the  helpless  sufferers.  Firemen,  doctors, 
and  policemen,  relatives  and  friends,  rendered 
all  possible  assistance,  and  to  the  amazement  of 

145 


14  MRS.   BOWDEN. 

every  one,  there  was  not  one  killed.  Over  thirty 
were  injured,  several  for  life,  and  one  has  since 
died. 

As  the  report  of  the  calamity  spread  over  the 
town,  its  horrors  were  magnified ;  many  were 
said  to  be  slain,  and  I  amongst  the  number. 
Our  people  belonging  to  the  Chapel  for  the 
Destitute  were  in  great  trouble,  and  though  the 
storm  still  raged,  they  came  to  the  evening 
service  under  great  excitement.  But  though  I 
had  not  received  the  slightest  injury,  the  sight 
-I  had  just  witnessed,  rendered  me  unfit  to  con- 
duct the  service,  and  a  kind  friend  supplied  my 
place.  Mrs.  Bowden,  though  in  poor  health, 
could  not  be  persuaded  to  remain  at  home.  She 
wrapped  her  shawl  round  her,  and  pushed 
through  the  storm,  and  rejoiced  with  them  all 
that  the  life  of  their  pastor  was  saved ;  but  she 
came  no  more. 

When  James,  the  consumptive  son,  saw  his 
mother's  health  fail,  it  softened  him  to  some 
extent ;  but  he  was  long  before  he  showed  signs 
of  repentance  toward  God.  When  persons, 
either  in  sickness  or  health,  persistently  refuse 
to  be  reconciled  to  their  Maker,  it  is  a  proof  of 
the  grossest  ignorance,  or  downright  wickedness. 
"  Ye  will  not  come  unto  me  that  ye  might  have 
life,"  principally  applies  to  the  latter,  but  I 
think  it  was  the  former  in  James's  case,  and  I 

IM 


MBS.    BOWDBN.  :15 

found  in  speaking  to  him,  simplicity  and  patience 
was  required,  the  A  B  C  of  God's  plan  of  saving 
sinners  had  to  be  taught  him. 

The  time  came  when  neither  of  them  could 
rise  from  a  sick  bed,  and  it  became  a  question 
which  of  them  would  first  depart.  Another 
son,  who  had  been  very  kind  to  his  widowed 
mother  and  sick  brother,  had  long  provided  for 
all  their  wants,  proying  again  that  true  religion 
always  leads  us  to  honor  our  parents.  When 
this  good  son  heard  of  his  mother's  dangerous 
illness,  he  brought  his  family  to  see  her.  One 
of  the  children,  about  four  years  old,  after  look- 
ing a  long  time  in  silence  in  the  face  of  the  aged 
sufferer,  said, — "  Grandmother,  pray  to  Jesus, 
he  can  make  you  well  again." 

This  sentence  from  the  little  grandchild  filled 
the  soul  of  the  dying  saint  with  rapture.  The 
name  of  Jesus  for  five  years  had  been  to  her 
precious,  and  that  name  spoken  by  the  mouth 
of  a  babe,  and  that  babe  her  own  son's  child, 
was  a  joy,  indeed.  As  soon  as  she  could  speak, 
she  said, — "  I  know  Jesus  can  make  me  well, 
dear,  but  I  am  going  to  where  I  shall  see  him, 
and  then  I  shall  be  poorly  no  more." 

Mrs.  Bowden's  last  hours  were  calculated  to 
cheer  workers  in  the  Lord's  vineyard.  My 
fellow-laborers  yet  speak  of  happy  moments 
they  enjoyed  in  witnessing  her  serene  counte- 

147 


i  MRS.  BOWDEN: 

nance,  and  hearing  her  tell  of  her  glorious  pros- 
pects. When  her  head  was  raised  a  little,  she 
could  see  her  eon  in  the  other  bed,  who,  like 
herself,  was  fast  sinking  towards  the  grave. 
Her  prayers  lor  him  often  greatly  affected  his 
i  eart;  and  when  she  heard  him  pray  for  him- 
self, tears  of  joy  would  stream  down  her  pale 
face. 

I  felt  it  a  solemn  moment  to  kneel  between 
the  two  beds,  where  two  immortal  spirits  were 
just  stepping  on  the  borders  of  the  invisible 
world ;  the  mother  was  not  without  hope  for 
the  son,  and  the  son  prayed  to  be  buried  the 
same  day  as  his  mother.  His  request  was 
granted.  On  the  day  of  the  funeral,  February 
13th,  the  two  coffins  were  brought  out  of  the 
cottage  in  Lomax  Street  together,  and  over  the 
same  grave,  at  the  same  moment,  the  solemn 
service  was  read  over  mother  and  son.  I  often 
look  at  the  place  Mrs.  Bowden  once  occupied 
amongst  us.  Another  has  taken  her  seat  in 
the  temple  below,  who  I  hope  will  yet  meet  her 
in  the  temple  above. 

148 


BK 


A  I 

/US' 


•E  TALES  FROM  HUMBLE  LIFE. 

BY  JOHN   ASHWORTH. 


a,  Four  Series,  cloth,  limp.    The  First  and  Secondt 
a  one  volume,  cloth,  boards,  or  extra  cloth,  gilt 

edgeg,  with  steel  portrait  of  the  Author ;  also  Third  and 

Fourth  in  one  volume,  gilt  edges. 
These  remarkable  Tales  are  still  kept  as  Tracts,  of  which 

nearly  Three  Millions  have  already  been  sold. 

FIRST  SERIES. 


J.  Mary;  a  Tale  of  Sorrow. 
t.  The  Dark  Hour.  [Men. 

8.  A  Wonder ;  or,   The  Two  Old 
4.  Sanderson  and  Little  Aline. 
6.  Wilkins.  [and  II. 

C  A  7.  Th«  Dark  Night.      Parts  I. 


8.  Joseph ;  or,  The  Silent  Corner, 

9.  My  Mother.  . 

10.  Niff  and  his  Dogs. 

11.  My  New  Friends. 

12.  My  New  Friends. 

13.  My  New  Friends. 


Part  I. 
Part  II. 
Part  III, 


SECOND  SERIES. 


14.  Mothers.  [Prayer. 

15.  Twenty  Pounds;  or,  The  Little 

16.  All  is  Well, 

17.  My  Uncle;  or,  Johnny's  Box. 

18.  Old  Adam. 

19.  Ellen  Williams. 


20.  Trials. 

21.  Answered  at  Last. 

22.  Priscilla.  [Step. 

23.  Julia ;  or,    The   First   Wrong 

24.  No  Cotton. 

26.  My  Young  Ragged  Friends, 


THIRD   SERIES. 


26-.  The  Lost  Ourl. 

27.  Emmott. 

2».  The  Widow. 

29.  Sarah ;  or,  "  I  Will  have  Him ! ' 

80.  My  Sick  Friends.    Part  I. 

81.  My  Sick  Friends.    Part  II. 


32.  George. 

33.  James  Burrows. 
3*.  John  and  Mary. 

35.  A  Sad  Story. 

36.  Lucy's  Legacy. 

37.  Edmund. 


FOURTH  SERIES. 


38.  The  Golden  Wedding. 

39.  William  the  Tutor. 

40.  Fathers. 

41.  Little  Susan. 

42.  Old  Matthew. 

43.  Old  Abe. 


44.  Milly. 

45.  The  Fog  Bell. 

46.  Mrs.  Bowden. 

47.  Happy  Ned. 

48.  Harry. 

49.  A  Dancer. 


WALKS    IN    CANAAN. 

By  same  Author.    304  pages,  with  7  full-page  illustrations.    Cloth,  ei 
extra  cloth,  gilt  edges. 


W'Mr.  Ashwprth's  Tales  and  Books  are  above  my  praise;  they  are 
circulated  I  believe,  not  by  thousand*,  but  by  millions,  and  the  result 
is,  that  the  name  of  John  Ash  worth  is  a  Household  Word,  not  only  in 
th«  lordly  halls,  but  in  the  lowly  homes  of  England." — Dr.  Guthrie. 


;  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY '  FACILITY 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

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